


you'll never see me biting on a rose

by zeitgeistofnow (orphan_account)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, Flirting, M/M, Tea, uncle iroh and zuko never chase the avatar they just go straight to ba sing se
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24872035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/zeitgeistofnow
Summary: zuko pours tea like he’s done it his entire life, even after only three years. one hand gently on the handle, the other holding the lid closed and gently guiding the spout toward the customer’s teacup. the air above the cup is infused with the warm scent of rose for just a moment before the customer takes the cup and sips at the red-gold liquid inside.“damn,” they say, “this is good. i thought tea was just like… hot leaf juice. this tastes like a rose garden in spring and I’ve never seen a rose garden in spring.”
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 571





	you'll never see me biting on a rose

Zuko pours tea like he’s done it his entire life, even after only three years. One hand gently on the handle, the other holding the lid closed and gently guiding the spout toward the customer’s teacup. The air above the cup is infused with the warm scent of rose for just a moment before the customer takes the cup and sips at the red-gold liquid inside.

“Damn,” they say, “this is good. I thought tea was just like… hot leaf juice. This tastes like a rose garden in spring and I’ve never  _ seen  _ a rose garden in spring.”

Memories flash through Zuko’s mind- the garden at the fire palace with his mother, dark red petals falling around her like in the wedding pictures Zuko rarely saw- and he looks up at the customer. “You’ve never seen a rose garden in spring?” he blurts, then flushes. Of course he hasn’t. Roses are rare in the earth kingdom and gardens rarer in Ba Sing Se, where land comes at a premium. He and Uncle Iroh have a few garden beds on the roof of their apartment but it’s small, only for the tea whose quality Uncle doesn’t trust importers with. Nothing like the sprawling, decorative ones at the palace. 

The customer’s brown skin darkens to match Zuko’s embarrassed blush and he gestures at himself. Zuko looks him up and down. He likes the other boy’s hair- it’s a style he’s never seen before, a wolf tail and sides that are short but not shaved. He wonders if it’s intentional or if the boy simply hasn’t had access to a razor in a long time. The weariness coupled with preemptive defensiveness to his stance suggest he’s a traveler of some kind. Likely another refugee. 

He also likes the boy’s eyes, bright blue like a sea Zuko hasn’t seen in five years. “Man, I’m from the southern Water Tribe. Not exactly a place that roses thrive. Aren’t they supposed to be super picky?”

Zuko catches himself. Staring is  _ not  _ a polite thing to do, and a few of the Jasmine Dragon’s customers have been known to react explosively to impoliteness. Not that this boy seems the type, but better safe than sorry. He stares at the boy’s hands instead, thinks of the jars of rose petals Uncle Iroh keeps, how they have to be imported from the Fire Nation. “Yes,” he says, still not thinking. “They only grow in the Fire Nation.”

The boy’s hands tap lightly, leaving fingerprints against the glaze of the ceramic cup. He leans over the counter, taking a slow sip of his tea. “When have  _ you _ seen the rose gardens in the Fire Nation?”

Zuko’s eyes flicker up to the other boy’s face and finds it too inquiring for his liking. He stares back at the cup. He knows the script. This is hardly the first time he’s slipped up since he and Uncle Iroh started their shop. He and his uncle escaped from a Fire Nation prison when he was thirteen and their escape route took them through much of the continent before buying their way onto a ship to start a new life in Ba Sing Se. He knows the story well enough that the entire spiel sits on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be deployed. 

Something about the other boy makes him want to trust him, though. Zuko’s not an idiot and  _ no one  _ deserves the full story, but it can’t hurt to give a Water Tribe nobody something a bit closer to the truth. “I was… I’m from the Fire Nation. By birth. My mother disappeared when I was eleven and my father gave me this scar two years later. My uncle insisted I leave with him then. I’ve lived here for years.” He pauses, tracing the waves painted on his teapot. “But not so long that I don’t remember the roses.”

“That’s terrible,” the other boys says. “I’m sorry about your mother. I lost mine to the Fire Nation too.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Zuko says. It’s a strangely intimate conversation they’re having. Zuko can’t tell if he needs to keep his customer service mask on. 

“Thanks,” he says. “When the avatar saves the world I’ll come back for you.” He smiles guilelessly up at Zuko, eyes open and bright, long fingers playing some unknown piano solo on the side of his teacup. “I’ll take you to see the rose gardens again. My friend Aang has a flying bison, so we could go anywhere we wanted.”

“I-” Zuko murmurs, his blush coming back with a vengeance. “That sounds nice.”

“You have beautiful eyes,” the boy continues, and Zuko swallows heavily. 

“You- you shouldn’t say that.” Zuko’s eyes are golden and sharp, like amber trapping spiders and flies for centuries. Like dragon scales, like the heart of a fire. Like things that kill. They’re not beautiful by any stretch of the word. 

“I shouldn’t- man, fuck the government.  _ There is no war in Ba Sing Se,  _ men can’t want to kiss-” the other boy cuts himself off and rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m no psychic, mostly because they don’t exist, but I think- know- that rose gardens sound just as good to you as they do to me.”

“No,” Zuko says, because he  _ knows.  _ He knows he’s illegal in more ways than he can count, he knows that the government isn’t looking out for him or half the citizens of their city. “My eyes, I meant. The rose garden does sound beautiful, but my eyes are hardly-”

“They’re gorgeous,” the boy bites, then swallows the rest of his tea and pushes it back toward Zuko. “Thank you for the tea, and when there’s really, truly, no war in Ba Sing Se because there’s no war anywhere I’ll find you.”

The idea settles deep in Zuko’s chest, warming his lungs and softening his inner fire. “That sounds nice. What can I call you in the meantime?”

“Sokka,” Sokka says. His eyes flicker down to Zuko’s nametag. “I don’t plan to be in town for too long, but I’ll see you… Lee.”

“I’ll see you.”

**Author's Note:**

> \- this was GOING to be a longer fic (like.. way longer) where zuko/iroh/azula left right after their mother disappeared but i ran out of steam after 1k words.. this was pretty sweet on its own though so i thought i'd post it!  
> \- sokka needs something concrete to look forward to once the world isn't ending anymore.. i mean they all do but i am thinking about sokka right now.  
> \- this was meant to be a fic about them sitting on a roof and talking about war/life but i didn't make it to that scene. however i still want to write that so keep an eye out  
> \- as always comments and kudos make me very happy! :)  
> \- you can find me on tumblr [@yearning-hours](https://yearning-hours.tumblr.com/) (my personal blog) or [@timetohope](https://timetohope.tumblr.com/) (my art blog).


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